


Ties that Bind

by Slash_addict



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slash_addict/pseuds/Slash_addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic Prompt: F47: Superman and Batman must participate in a ceremony of displayed vulnerability in order to gain an alien species trust. A ceremony of public copulation. Can be pure friends w/ benefits or pre-slash. Comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning* I do not have a beta, if you’re interested let me know, until such time, however, read at your own grammatical risk.  
> Authors notes: I do this for fun, if you don't like it don't read it.

  
“I’m sorry…. _what_?!”

The large silver alien behind the desk blinked small, gray-green eyes at the tone of Superman’s voice and then clanked at his translator who relayed Superman’s question.  Superman glanced over at Batman whose mouth was turned down in a slight frown.  The two large aliens clanked back and forth at one another rapidly, the translator finally turning back to the two men.  “Surely….but surely this was explained to you when you came to negotiate the treaty?”  He hazarded.

“Ah, no.”  Superman said, glancing again at Batman, “I think I would have remembered something like that!”

Batman leaned forward, “You mean to tell us this is…customary?”

The translator shook his large head, his eyes worried, “Not customary, no, _required_.   Without _k’hcha che’k_ the treaty is not considered binding!”

“But we’re both _men_!”

“Yes?”

“Xuzar, we have spent nearly a year negotiating this treaty.”  Batman graveled, ignoring Clark’s outburst “and you mean to tell me if we do not—Xuzar, what will happen if we do not…participate in _k’hcha che’k_?”

The alien spread large mandibles, the tentacles of his face waving as he spoke, “But you must!  You must!  To forgo _K’hcha che’k_ would be….disastrous!  _Disastrous_!  Unheard of! _Ti’char et tivara_! It would so dishonor both parties that it would be as good as a declaration of war!”  If Xuzar had had hands, he would have been wringing them worriedly, as it was he merely looked back and forth from the two of them, “Please!” The tentacles of his face waggled in mounting alarm. “You must!”  He said again.

The alien behind the desk clanked urgently at Xuzar.  Xuzar explained rapidly, by the time he’d finished, the silver alien’s eyes were wide with horror, he turned shaking his large head at the two and began clanking frantically and gesticulating wildly with his mandibles.  Xuzar raced to translate, “His eminence says that should you forgo _k’hcha che’k_ then the entire treaty would be considered null-in-void, and we, having called you here, would forfeit our Nation’s governance to the Chiv’ern’tichtians for the insult.”  

Xuzar, normally a pale shade of lavender, had turned an unhealthy shade of purple.  The last part had apparently been news to him as well.  “ _Ti’char et tivara_!  Oh, Please, please!  Good masters, you are fine, strong men, surely this is not so big a thing as what you have faced?”  Xuzar looked desperate now, as well he should, the Chiv’ern’tichtians were a bloodthirsty race, and it was very likely that even he, a mere translator, would be subject to the purge of the ruling class, which was how the Chiv’ern’tichtians kicked off the control of every new conquest.

Superman held up his hands, “Calm down Xuzar, it’s just, we’re both _men_ Xuzar,”

“Yes.”  Xuzar’s head bobbed up and down, “You mentioned.”

Superman ran a hand through his hair in frustration and then changed tactics, “I’m married, Xuzar, and I have an obligation of fidelity to the woman that I married—

“But surly she would understand?  For our people?  Surely if you have seen her worthy to be your mate she is a kind and good person.  Surly good enough to understand, yes?  Good master nearly one third of our population has been destroyed, and if the Chiv’ern’tichtians were to, _to be given control_ …please!” it was almost a wail.

Clark thought about trying to explain this to Lois and felt nauseous.  He glanced at Batman, “At little help here?”

“Can I see the laws?”

“What?”  Xuzar asked, blinking.

“The law, that requires we...”  Batman’s face was impassive but Cark had known him too long to miss the telltale tightening of his lips that spoke volumes about his discomfort with the situation.  “The law that requires that we copulate, publicly, in order to ratify this treaty?”  He finished.

Xuzar nodded, “I can bring you the law codex, but we do not have a translation.”  He looked from Superman to Batman and back again.

“Good.”  Batman said and then sat back in his chair as if it was settled.  Xuzar opened his mouth, shut it, clanked to the alien behind the desk and then scurried out of the room.

After Xuzar left, Clark turned to Bruce, and, watching his tone, asked, “What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to try to find a loophole in the law.”  Bruce drawled, “You, apparently, after having so firmly established that we are, in fact, both male, are going to continue to try and hid behind Lois’ skirts.”

“Ha. Ha.”  Clark glared at him, “I’m serious! What if you can’t find a way around it?  Then what?”

“Then we will apparently be having sex in the street.”

“Stadium.”  Xuzar said, as he placed the huge scroll in front of Batman, “ _k’hcha che’k_ takes place in a stadium.”

“Great.”  Clark said weakly

“Xuzar,” Batman said, getting to his feet as he gathered up the scroll. “We will see this treaty ratified. You have my word.”  And he swept out of the room.

*  
Back in their apartments, Clark paced back and forth as Bruce ponderously worked his way through the massive law scroll of the Tiwandar.

“This is ridicules!”  Clark fumed, “Who ever heard of ratifying a treaty by having the people who negotiated it have sex in public!  What if there had been more than just the two of us?!  This is absurd!”

“How are things coming good masters?”  Xuzar asked, as a servant wheeled in their dinner, he glanced nervously from where Superman hovered, interrupted in his pacing, to Batman, still hunched over the scroll.  Superman licked his lips, and glance over at where Bruce was still working, “I’m not entirely sure.  Batman?”

Bruce grunted, “These are very dense.”  He said and Clark’s heart sank.

“Yes, I was afraid that you would find them so, they were written in the time of the…there is no direct translation, the time of the _triv’diran_ , ‘best time,’ I guess, ‘Time of no trial when difficulty had ceased.’”  Xuzar waved a mandible dismissively, “even for us the reading is difficult, one must study for years before they make much sense.”

Bruce nodded, “if I understand this right, the reason for _k’hcha che’k_ is so that the treaty may be sealed in love?”

Xuzar’s eyes widened, “Yes. _Ti’char_ , but you do learn quickly don’t you?”

“But Xuzar, if Superman and I are not in love, which we are not, would it not make the act of _k’hcha che’k_ null-in-void?”

Superman brightened, oh please Rao, please!

“Ah, but you do love one another.  You love as brothers in arms, as friends and _che’k_.”

“So romantic love is not required?”

“No.”  Superman deflated even as Xuzar seemed pleased, clearly thinking the problem had been resolved, “No you will not dishonor _k’hcha che’k_.  It will be a strong binding!”

“What?”  Clark asked, confused.

“Yes.  I wasn’t sure about that myself, but it seems that engaging in _k’hcha che’k_ is more than simply symbolic, it actually serves to, in some way, literally bind together those who have entered into the treaty.”

“Oh yes.  Once made, a treaty on Tiwandaria cannot be broken after the _k’hcha che’k_ has been preformed.”  Xuzar smiled, “You see now, why it is so important.”

Batman grunted, “Yes.”

Xuzar nodded, “Shall I relay your answer to his eminence?”

Clark looked panicked and Batman said quickly, “Not just yet Xuzar, give us a few hours to talk it over, in our culture things are not quite this…friendly.”

Xuzar bobbed something like a curtsey, eyeing the two men curiously, and left.

“Bruce?!”  Clark cried, whirling to face the man still seated at the desk, “Are you crazy?”

Bruce sighed, “Clark, there is no other way.”  

“Explain!”

Bruce hesitated, and then asked, “Are you familiar with Tantra?”

Clark blinked, “Tantra?  You mean sex yoga?  Yes, some of it anyway, why?”

“Trantic sex is for the purpose of raising sexual energy in the body.  From what I can get out of this text, the _trridii_ , or the stadium” Bruce scowled, “Where the act is preformed is used to harness that energy and it somehow binds those individuals who have signed their names to the treaty.  I think that’s why we have to do it in our own blood.”  Bruce sighed again.  “In short, there is no other way.”

Clark groaned, “There has to be another way, Rao, Lois will kill me.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth quirked up, “So don’t tell her.”

Clark glowered at him, “Some of us don’t keep secrets from the ones we love.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Fine.  Tell her.  Don’t tell her.  But this has to be done Kent, I haven’t spent nearly a year, on and off, away from Gothem to keep these people from genocide so that you can throw it all away!”

“I know, Bruce I know, it’s just” he threw up his arms in frustration, “Rao, This. Is. Insane!  Public sex?  You can’t tell me that you’re comfortable with the idea either!  Have you ever had sex with another man?”

Bruce hesitated momentarily and then said, “Yes.  A few times back in college, before I left on my training.”

Clark’s mouth fell open, stopped short mid rant, “Really?  I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I have stamped on my forehead.”  Bruce said dryly.

“Well, you should consider it.  It would be a conversation piece at the very least.”  Clark returned and then sighed, “At least you know what to do then.”

Bruce snorted, “It’s hardly astrophysics.  There are some basics that we should get down first, though, before we…” Bruce, who had removed the cowl after Xuzar left, closed his eyes, “have an audience.”

Clark nodded uncertainty, “Such as?”

“Top or bottom.”  

“Oh.”  Clark flushed and Bruce chuckled, but it wasn’t unkind.  

“You going to be ok?”

“No.  Yes?  Maybe.  Rao, I think I’d rather face Darkseid, no I _know_ I’d rather face Darkseid.”

Bruce sighed, “I second that.”

“I guess…bottom?”  It was well that Clark was indestructible, or his cheeks might very well have burst into flames, “since it’ll hurt me less.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “It shouldn’t hurt at all, not if the thing is done properly.”  It went without saying that anything Bruce did would, of course, be done properly.

“Oh.  Well, good, I guess.  What all do we need?”

“Just some lubricant.  I’ll see what they have around here…” Bruce went to pull the cowl back up and then stopped; eyeing the way Clark was shifting nervously. “Clark,” he hesitated and such visible uncertainty associated with Bruce made Clark pay attention, “Clark do you want to practice before we do this in front of God and everyone?”  He looked momentarily surprised that he’d actually spoken.

Clark was certainly shocked by the suggestion. But when he thought about it, it made a kind of sense.  Bruce took comfort in preparation.  “I,” it was Clark’s turn to close his eyes, “Find out when Xuzar wants us to do this and if we’ve got time then, yeah.”

“Done.”  When Clark opened his eyes, Bruce was gone.

*   *   *

Bruce stalked down the corridor sending multihued aliens scurrying out of his way.    It was an effort not to grind his teeth.  He’d been through that law codex fourteen times before he’d finally had to concede that there simply was no other way short of breaking the treaty.  _Why didn’t I know about this?!  How did I miss this?_   He growled at himself angrily.  _I should have known about this going in!_

“Good master Batman.”  Xuzar quailed, “Is there some problem?”  The translator warbled worriedly.

Batman pulled himself up and got a grip on his temper.  “No, Xuzar.  When is the _k’hcha che’k_ to be performed?”

“In one cycle.”  The alien blinked large, reflective eyes, “Does this mean that you are going to participate?”  The hope that colored the alien’s tone softened Bruce anger, if only slightly.  

“Yes, Xuzar.  We will need lubricant brought to our rooms.”  Before the alien could comment or Bruce’s circulatory system could turn traitor and cause him to blush he continued, “Xuzar, why were we not told about this condition when we first came to negotiate the treaty?  I realize that this is a non-event to your people but on earth this is considered an extreme breach of protocol.”

The alien bobbed his head, “yes, well, initially we hadn’t intended to perform _k’hcha che’k_. In the past, the Chiv’ern’tichtians have all but demanded that the _k’hcha che’k_ not be preformed.  They like to break treaties,” he sighed sadly, “and the _k’hcha che’k_ makes that impossible.  It was not until they knew you would be negotiating the treaty that they requested _k’hcha che’k_.  And we were just so pleased that they had finally agreed to maintain a treaty!”

Bruce smelled a rat.  This was a last ditch effort to derail this treaty, The Chiv’ern’tichtians had thought they would back down.  “Interesting.”

*   *   *  
Clark’s head came up at the sound of Bruce’s heartbeat in the hall.  Bruce didn’t make any actual noise, so Clark had gotten used to identifying him by other sounds.  

“Well?”  Clark asked, trying to sound normal.

“Tomorrow night.”  Bruce said briefly, he paused a moment and then said, “I think we’ve been set up.”  Clark’s eyebrows rose steadily as Bruce explained what he’d learned from Xuzar.

Clark sighed heavily once he’d finished, “I think you’re right, we have been set up.  But we can’t very well not go through with the ceremony, especially if that’s what they’re counting on.”

Bruce looked like he might add something more, but just shook his head and began serving himself some of the now cold food from the cart.  His movements were as fluid as ever but his heartbeat was accelerated, and beyond that, well it was Bruce and Clark new him better than almost anyone.  He was nervous too.

“So, you’ve done this before?”  He asked, not because he really wanted to know but because he thought talking about it might help.

Bruce paused and then said, “Yes.  Four times.  His name was Allen White.”

“How did you meet?”

Bruce glanced up a smirk playing on his lips, “You know I don’t think small talk is actually required.”

Clark rolled his eyes, ok so Bruce didn’t want to talk, what a surprise.  But he did.  He moved toward the cart and made himself a plate as well, “I’m serious Bruce. How did you meet?”

“Chemistry class.  He needed a tutor.”  Bruce shrugged eloquently, “or so he said.  He got me very drunk and we had sex.  When I woke up I had a hell of a hang over and a new perspective on life.”  Bruce allowed a smirk to form momentarily, “it was…educational.”

“He, he didn’t force you, did he?” Clark asked hesitantly, concerned.

Bruce’s snort spoke volumes. “No.”

Clark nodded slowly; it was…a lot to take in.  “I guess I’m just surprised.  I always thought that you liked women.”

Bruce looked at him sharply, “Clark this was a very long time ago, and the discussion is now over.”

Clark sighed, “Fine.”

They ate in silence, finally Clark said, “maybe we should get drunk.”

Bruce glanced over from where he’d obviously been lost in thought, “Can you get drunk?”

“Ok, maybe you should get drunk.”

An eyebrow rose, “And how exactly would that help you?”

 _It would stop you from making snide comments like that?_   Clark thought, but all he said was, “You mentioned that was how you did it before.”

Bruce scoffed, “The first time, yes.  The subsequent times, no.”

“Oh.”

Bruce relented, “Clark do you want to just get it over with?”

“ _Rao yes_.”

Bruce nodded, and indicated the bedroom with a jerk of his head, Clark followed.  On the threshold, however, he hesitated.  “Bruce…what about Lois?  The time in the arena that will be for the treaty, but this…this would be different.”

 “It’s up to you Clark.”  

Bruce crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorway.  Clark tried to picture himself fumbling in front of all those people.  He thought about the first time he’d had sex with a woman and then thought about how that would have felt with an audience.  “Get on the bed.”

Bruce managed, just, not to smile and started stripping out of his suit.  Clark began to undress as well, feeling extremely self-conscious.  This was Bruce!  Bruce who still stiffened when Clark hugged him.  Bruce who could be as prickly as kryptonite and just as deadly.  Clark took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

“You ok?”  Bruce asked as his boxers fell to the floor.  Clark nodded jerkily and crawled onto the bed but Bruce frowned, “Clark?”

“I…I’m not sure that I can do this Bruce.”  He said after a moment, “Sex is…important to me, it’s something sacred.  Is shouldn’t be…forced.”

“I’m sorry.”  Bruce said, almost too quietly for even Clark to hear.

Clark shook his head, “It’s not your fault Bruce!  You shouldn’t be forced into something like this.”

Bruce blinked, “I shouldn’t...Wait.”  He sat down on the bed drawing Clark’s attention so that they were looking at one another, “Clark, despite my reputation, I’m not a mind reader, explain.”

“Bruce you don’t…enjoy personal contact.  I know that, and I’m not comfortable forcing this on you.”

“Oh.”  He was silent for three heart beats and then Clark was being kissed with a passion that would have done Lois proud.  When they broke apart panting, Clark glanced quizzically at Bruce.

Bruce shrugged, “I don’t have your moral hang-ups, Clark.  You’re an attractive man, a good friend, and a great teammate.  As long as you’re ok with this, I’m fine.  My biggest concern is, as always, entanglements.  I don’t have time for a relationship, but then you don’t want one.  Problem solved.”

Clark eyed him for a moment but was surprised to realize that Bruce was telling the absolute truth.  He nodded slowly, “Ok.  Good.”

“Good.  Now that that’s settled—” Bruce kissed him again.  It was different than being kissed by a woman; Bruce was more demanding than any woman he’d ever kissed, even Lois.  Clark flinched at that thought and tried to stop making comparisons.  Eventually he was able to lose himself in the kiss enough not to notice when Bruce’s hand slid down from his face to his chest and then down to his hip.  He broke the kiss to gasp as one hand slid down, a whispered trace over his growing erection.  Bruce’s hands, scarred and callused, were amazing.  Clark felt his eyes rolling back in his head, and then some how he was on his back, with Bruce astride him.  He groaned as a he felt fingers on the inside of his thighs.  It registered somewhere that he ought to be trying to reciprocate but _oh, oh Rao_   the fingers continued on their path and suddenly his anus was being traced with such sensual deliberateness that he actually felt himself arching toward it.  _Please_! He wasn’t sure if he’d only thought it or said it out loud, regardless the finger answered and one digit slowly slid inside him.

After a few moments sparks exploded behind his eyes, hips jerking wildly as he shouted incoherently.  He thought he herd Bruce chuckle but the sound was swamped by the waves of rising pleasure.  The first finger was joined by a second and then a third and then, suddenly, he was bereft.

“Bruce?”  He panted

Bruce kissed him, “You ready?”

“What?  Oh.”

And then Bruce was inside him.  

*   *   *

Bruce hadn’t fucked a man in years.   He was too well known and it was a complication he didn’t need.  But Clark was everything he’d imagined he would be on some of his darker patrol nights.  They had been fleeting, barely acknowledged fantasies to wile away the dull hours of patrol spent watching empty warehouses.  This, he shivered, this was _so_ much better.  Of course, he had never seriously entertained that this would ever happen, which had been fine.  Clark was too emotional, too clinging, too needy.  Too, well, Clark.

Clark bucked under him as Bruce found his prostate again.  God he was tight.  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to center himself.  It wasn’t much help as Clark bucked again, coming hard.  Bruce was able to keep going for half a minute and then his own orgasm followed suit.

They lay panting for a long stretch of indeterminable time and then Bruce raised himself up on an elbow, “well?”

Clark rolled his eyes toward him and made a face as he shifted, “Ugh, we should have used a condom.”  Clark disappeared and reappeared--presumably from the bathroom—in a burst of super speed.

Bruce laughed, “Better?”

Clark grunted, “Yes.”  His tone changed, sounding almost awed. “That was amazing.”

Bruce smiled, “Yeah, it wasn’t bad was it?”  He rolled over onto his back, “You were good.”  He added, almost grudgingly

Clark snickered, “Did it hurt to say that?”  Bruce rolled his eyes, but refrained from comment.

After a while Bruce got up and headed to the bathroom himself.  When he came back he found Clark still lying on the bed, starring up at the ceiling.  He raised his head when Bruce came back into the room.  Listening to my heart beat again, Bruce thought annoyed.  “Allen White was a lucky guy.”  Clark said, suddenly and then he was gone.  Bruce blinked at the rush of wind and then chuckled.  Nice to know that he was appreciated.

*   *   *  
They met up again in the receiving room the next morning.  Xuzar came again with the servant who brought their meal, and gave them a run down of the preceding for that night.  In deference to their identities Bruce would be allowed to keep cape and cowl, Superman could wear his cape as well, but he declined.  At dusk they would be taken to the _trridii_ where the _k’hcha che’k_ would be preformed.  They would be escorted by the officials of both the Tiwandarii and the Chiv’ern’tichtians to the arena where they would then perform _k’hcha che’k_.   Afterward a banquet would be held in their honor.  Xuzar thanked them both profusely and then left them to their meal.  They ate again in silence, Clark trying not to think about the events of the evening to come, Bruce focused on the computer on his wrist.

“There were no less than four assassins stopped on the palace grounds last night.”  He announced after snapping the computer off.

Clark paused, fork halfway to his mouth, “Oh?”

“Mmmm.”

“You expected that.”

“Of course I did.  We called their bluff.   They must be desperate to keep us from finalizing this treaty.”

“You think there will be more attempts?” Bruce snorted. “Right.  Of course you do.  What were they carrying?  The assassins?”

“Nothing that would have put a dent in you.” Bruce replied.

Clark shrugged, “I probably wasn’t their target.”

Bruce nodded, “Probably not.  But it won’t hurt you to be cautious.  There’s no telling whether or not they’d have accesses to K here.”

Clark smiled, “Why thank you Bruce, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you Clark.”

Clark ignored him, “While we’re handing out warnings, and since you are the most likely target, you be careful too.”

“I’m—

“—always careful.” Clark finished with him, “yes, I know.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but he seemed satisfied and they settled down to wait.  The time seemed to drag and then leap by, in turns.  Clark couldn’t decide if he wanted to just get it over with or if he wanted to delay it as much as possible.  Bruce wasn’t much help; he spent his time focused on his wrist computer, occasionally making ciphered notes on a piece of paper.  Finally, Clark asked, “Why did you guys stop seeing each other?  You and Allen?”

Bruce glanced up, surprise flickering across his face until he schooled it, and shrugged. “I left school to start my training.”

“What, you just left?”

Bruce sighed, “Clark, it’s not like we were engaged.  It was a fling.  I know the concept is difficult for you, but some people don’t fall in love with the first person they catch out of mid air.”

Clark made a face at him, “Funny.  So…were you happy with him?”

Bruce looked back down at his wrist, “Clark I told you about Allen to explain my experience, not so we could play twenty questions.”

Clark threw up his hands.  “I’m trying to distract myself.  How can you not be nervous?” He cried in frustration

“Clark we’ve got hours yet, think of something else.”

Clark thought about using his super speed to thwap him upside that head and then thought better of it.  The last thing that he needed was Bruce mad at him.  He started back pacing, trying not to look at the clock every thirty seconds.  Then suddenly, it was Time.  He felt his stomach lurch sickeningly when Xuzar walked into the room.  Oh, Rao.

“Good masters, it is time.  I have brought you your ceremonial robes.”  Xuzar proffered something so covered with gilt that it was difficult to tell if there was actually fabric under it.  Clark took the one that was offered to him and walked to his room to change.  Not that Xuzar wouldn’t be seeing everything in a few hours time, he thought half hysterically and tired to calm his racing nerves.  Oh. Rao.

*   *   *

Bruce changed slowly, he went of every inch of the cloth meticulously until he found a place that he could stow a few Batarangs and lock picks.  He also kept spare picks in his cowl.  He kicked his starlight lenses to inferred and waited for his eyes to adjust.  Both the Tiwandarii and the Chiv’ern’tichtians had normal body temperatures of 250 degrees Fahrenheit, there would be no disguising that.  But when he emerged from the room, dressed only in the flowing robe, cape and cowl, he still felt naked, which he more or less was.  Nothing was worn under the robes.  And those would be discarded once they were in the arena.  He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

They followed Xuzar to where the delegates were waiting.  Clark, to Bruce’s annoyance, managed to position himself between Bruce and the Chiv’ern’tichtians.  The honor guard, as they were known, began marching in lock step, and Bruce had the surreal experience that he was being marched to the gallows.  He shook himself and reached for calm.  This was necessary.

When they left the bright palace hallways and began crossing the gardens Bruce caught the start of movement from one of the Chiv’ern’tichtians.  He tracked the trajectory of the aliens arm, flowing out of the way effortlessly and catching the arm mid-arc.  The Tiwandarii with them gasped, horrified, as Bruce slammed the arm of the Chiv’ern’tichtian against his knee breaking his grip.  And then Clark was there, lifting the alien bodily off the ground.

“This is an outrage.”  Trilled one of the Tiwandarii, tentacles waggling furiously.  “Outrage!”

Clark glanced at the Tiwandarii who had spoken, “Do you have a holding cell?”

“What?  Oh!  Yes, third floor, on the right.”

There was a blur of motion and then Clark was back.  “He’s lock up and the guards have been informed.”  He turned to face the rest of the Chiv’ern’tichtians, already held fast by Bruce’s gaze.

“We are going to assume,” he said calmly, “That he was acting alone, in order to prevent an interplanetary incident.”

The Chiv’ern’tichtians relaxed visibly and then all nodded frantically in agreement.  Of course they knew nothing! Nothing!  He was a rogue agent! Horrible, absolutely horrible!  Thank _Rellic_ no one had been injured.  Bruce glared them into silence.

“You think that’s the last of them?”  Clark whispered

“No.”

Clark nodded, and moved apart slightly to give them room to maneuver. But they proceeded to stadium without further incident.  The _trridii_.  In spite of himself, Bruce’s head fell back as he looked up the length of it.  It was huge.  Half the planet must be in there, he mused, horrified.  The escort was led away while they continued on alone.  Bruce caught the tail end of one of the Tiwandarii filling in the guard. His eyes picked out the hazy shimmer of a force field springing to life as they closed the gate to the trridii behind them.

“I need to be on top.”  Clark said suddenly.

“What?”  Bruce asked, taken entirely by surprise.

“I need to be the one on top, in case they get anything through the force field.”

“Clark—

“Bruce I’m serious!  I paid attention to what you did.”

Bruce hesitated momentarily, but then he had sex with Lois didn’t he?  And she’d survived, still…  He let out a breath.  “There is a way for you to be on top with me still doing the penetration.”  He whispered quickly.  “I’ll prep you, and then lie on my back.  You’ll…” he gestured, “Slide down on top.”

Clark nodded, “Fine.”

They were in the center of the arena now and Bruce was conscious of every eye on him as they slid off the robes.  Clark was right.  This was ridiculous, and when they finished this he was going home and he was going to kill J’onn for sending them on this mission.  No jury would convict him.  They lay down side by side, while Bruce hurriedly prepped Clark.  He didn’t bother trying to find his prostate, this wasn’t about skill.  Then he pulled Clark on top of him, helping to guide his dick into the man above him.  God he is so tight.  Bruce thought distractedly as he fully seated himself in Clark.  And then, then Clark began to move.  

*   *   *  
The _trridii_ was forgotten.  The crowd was forgotten.  Everything but Bruce and the pulsing pleasure singing through him ceased to exist.  Right up until he had slid onto Bruce, Clark had felt sure that his cheeks were going to burst into flames.  He had wanted nothing more than to leap into the air and be anywhere other than here.  Now, you couldn’t pay him to leave.   This was better than last night.  This was better than anything that he had ever experience in his entire life.  And it wasn’t just physical, it was almost as if he could feel what Bruce was feeling, and the emotions echoed back on one another.   They moved together as if they’d been making love all their lives.  Bruce shifted continually so that every thrust found Clark’s prostate.  Clark clenched in time with each thrust drawing pleasure filled moans from the usually laconic man beneath him.  He very much doubted if Bruce had made this much noise in his entire life. It seemed to go on for days, and yet when they came, shouting, it was over too soon.  When they broke apart the emotional bond snapped, but Clark could feel the residual affect of it still, like the feeling of warmth after the sun slips behind a cloud.  When they rolled off one another and finally managed to sit up, they realized that the stadium was in an uproar.

*  
Clark glanced at Bruce and wondered distantly if he looked equally dazed, “Wha?”

Bruce shook his head, “I’m not sure.”  He looked around and then pulled their robes to them, “Come on.”

“We can’t have been that bad.”  Clark joked, as they jogged to the gate of the arena, and found their way barred by a small army of Tiwandarii guards blocking it.

“Funny.”

“I thought so.  Problem?”  Clark asked, conversationally as he moved to intercept a knife thrown at one of the guards.

The Guard clanked urgently at them, making shooing motions with his mandibles.  “He says that there was an attempt on our lives while we were in the _trridii_.  He wants us to go back in.”  Bruce translated as he slid around the guard and caught the advancing Chiv’ern’tichtian a blow on the side of the head.  He dropped like a rock, the Tiwandarii guard gapped at him.

“Apparently no one here has read our bios.” Clark remarked cheerfully as another Chiv’ern’tichtian broke his knife on the Man of Steel.

Bruce grunted his agreement as he put the last of the Chiv’ern’tichtian on the ground.  “Let’s find Xuzar.”

*   *   *  
In the end Xuzar found them.  Things had begun to quiet down almost as soon as they got away from the trridii.  Xuzar explained that once the _k’hcha che’k_ had been completed, the fight pretty much went out of Chiv’ern’tichtians.  Xuzar looked so happy that he was nearly skipping with excitement.  The bonding had been exceptionally strong, he explained and the Chiv’ern’tichtian bound so tightly that even that mild uprising could not be sustained.  Bruce acknowledged his excitement but firmly declined to stay for any banquet citing pressing JLA matters, and multiple attempts on their lives.  

They sat in silence as Bruce piloted the jet toward earth.  It was a quick journey, with the help of Martian and Thanagarian technology and they would be home shortly.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell Lois.”  Clark said abruptly.

Bruce started to make a snide comment and then thought back to the trridii, he’d felt Clark’s joy then.  The compete freedom with which he’d given himself and he understood.  “Clark, I know that you don’t like to keep secrets, but if you want my advice you won’t tell her.  I’m not going to say anything, it’s not likely to get back to her half was across the galaxy and neither one of you needs that kind of stress.”

Clark remained silent for a long time and then finally he said, “That was the single most amazing thing that I’ve ever experience.  Was it the _k’hcha che’k_?”

Bruce tired to work out a way to explain without giving too much away, “Yes.”  He said finally, not willing give the whole truth, that it merely magnified the feelings of the participants.  He would not come between Lois and Clark.

“Oh.”  Clark said.  After a time he said quietly, “Thank you Bruce, for getting us through this.”

“I didn’t do any more than you did Clark.”

“I know.  But,” he added with a wry twist to his mouth, “I doubt I could have done this with anyone else.”

“I know.”  After a moment he added, “I fully intend to kill J’onn when we get back.”  

Clark barked a laugh, “I’ll help.  We can hide the body at the Fortress.”

Bruce chuckled in response.  They made the rest of the trip home in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.  

END

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Clark felt his body respond as he slid fully onto Bruce. The roar of the _Trridii_ fell away as he felt a sharp spike of emotion— pleasure, excitement, lust and love—sear through him leaving him breathless.  He felt it again, only fainter as Bruce rocked his hips up, urging him to move faster.  He caught the rhythm quickly and they began to move together as if they’d been making love all their lives.  Bruce shifted continually so that every thrust found Clark’s prostate.  Clark clenched in time with each thrust, drawing pleasure filled moans from the usually laconic man beneath him.  As Bruce hit his prostate again, the emotions spiked once more and again he felt the echo seconds later and realized it was Bruce.  He was feeling what Bruce was feeling, he realized, awed.  The emotions echoed back on one another and it heightened the physical beyond anything Clark had ever experienced.   When they came, shouting, he clung to Bruce as he would a life line not wanting to pull away, not wanting it to end.

Clark sat up in bed, panting.  He ran a hand through sweat soaked hair and glanced fearfully at Lois who mumbled something incoherent as she rolled over in her sleep next to him.  He glanced at the clock, three in the morning.  Rao.  He got soundlessly to his feet and moved to the window, leaning his head against the frame tiredly.  This was the fifth dream in as many nights since they’d been back. He glanced down at his stomach and legs, both coated with semen, and sighed.  He didn’t know what to do, at this rate it was impossible that Lois would not find out.  His stomach contorted itself into knots at the very thought and he fought the panic down and tried to remember to breathe.  To be honest, he didn’t see how she couldn’t be suspicious already.   Last night he’d woken her with the dream; she’d teased him about being insatiable and helped him get cleaned up.  Insatiable.  He snorted quietly at the thought.  They’d made love every night this week, each night he’d hoped that if he could sate himself beforehand, the dream would go away—or at least diminish.  It hadn’t.  He thumped his head against the window frame and sighed again in frustration.

He glanced again at the bed and then headed into the living room where he scribbled a note to Lois.  Twenty minutes later found him on his parent’s farm bailing hay in the loft, which was where his mother found him.

*

“Clark?”

“Hi Ma.”  Clark replied, as he shoveled another forkful of hay.

“Not that your father won’t be thrilled that you’ve done half the chores for him this morning, but to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”  Martha Kent asked brightly as she made her way into the loft.  She took one look at Clark’s face, however, and her good cheer evaporated.  “Clark what’s wrong?”

Clark leaned the pitchfork up against the wall and sighed causing his mother’s frown to deepen.  He ran a hand nervously through his hair, “You remember I told you and Pa about negotiating that treaty on Tiwandaria?”  

Martha nodded, “The one that you’d been working on for over a year?”

“Yes.  Well…” he shifted his feet nervously, staring down at the floor boards of the hayloft. “There was a bit more to it than what I told you.”  Martha took a seat on a bale of hay and motioned for Clark to continue.  “Well, you see, the Tiwandarii, they have this custom called… _k’hcha che’k_ , which is more or less a requirement that the people who negotiate the treaty have” he blushed, staring fixedly at the ground, “sex in public in order to make the treaty binding.”

Martha’s eyebrows rose at that.  “And you negotiated this treaty with…?”

Clark coughed, “Batman.”

“Ah.”  Clark listened for any sound of disgust or disapproval.  The Kents weren’t exactly narrow-minded, they couldn’t be given that they’d raised a super powered alien, but they were Midwestern farmers and there were some ideas that were more tolerated out here than others.   

“We tried to find a way around it.” He rushed to explain, “ _Rao_ , but we tried.  But in the end it was either perform _k’hcha che’k_ or see the Tiwandarii massacred.  We had no choice.”  He insisted, glancing at his mother warily.

She scoffed, “I should say not.”  She took in his defensive posture and her expression softened.   She gave him a gentile smile, “Clark, you know perfectly well that your father and I will love you and support you, regardless.” Clark smiled gratefully, the tension draining out of him as he took a seat on another bale of hay.  “Oh that reminds me,” Martha said suddenly, “did I tell you that May’s son came out?”

“What Tommy?”  Clark asked shocked.

“Mmmhm”

“Wow.  Really?  I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years.”

Martha eyed him, “I’m given to understand that it isn’t necessarily obvious.”

Clark opened his mouth and then shut it rolling his eyes, “Ma, I’m not gay.”

Martha just looked at him and then asked, “So this, k’h  k’hcha c-che’k” she stumbled over the pronunciation of the alien word, “Is that a common practice?”

“You mean there or in general.”

“Both.”

“In general, not that I’m aware of no. There, yes, though we weren’t told as much.  Batman was furious that we hadn’t been informed prior to starting the negotiations.”

“Why weren’t you?”

“Turns out it was a delaying tactic.” Clark sighed, “Initially the Tiwandarii weren’t going to require the _k’hcha che’k_ be preformed, the Chiv’ern’tichtians insisted, thinking we’d back down.”   

“Hmmm.”  Martha mused, “Well, clearly they couldn’t appreciate whom they were dealing with.”  She smiled proudly at him, “Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got a pot of coffee brewing.”

When they were both seated at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of each of them Martha asked, “So have you told Lois?”

“No.”  Clark replied, apprehension edging his words.

“Well you need to.  Marriage can’t work if you keep secrets Clark, it just can’t.”

“Ma, I don’t think she’d understand.”

Martha shook her head, “She might surprise you, but you have to tell her Clark, keeping this from her is clearly eating you up inside.”

“But what if she doesn’t understand?”

Martha gave him a look, “If she doesn’t understand that you had to make a sacrifice to save hundreds of thousands of lives?”

“Well,” he hedged, “I don’t know if that’s all there is to it.  I…I keep having these dreams” his face flushed at the remembrance and he cleared his throat in embarrassment, “about what happened.  They’re so real, Ma it’s like I’m still there” he shook his head, trailing off in frustration, “I’m so confused…  I don’t know if this is some side affect of the _k’hcha che’k_ …or what.”  
   
Martha gave him a searching look, “Clark, do you have feelings for this Batman?”

“What?” Clark yelped.  Eyes going wide. “Ma, I’m married to Lois.”

“Yes, you are.”  Martha replied evenly.  She took a sip of her coffee, watching him over the rim.  He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.  Finally she asked, “Has Batman been affected in the same way?”

Clark blinked, “I—I’m not sure.  I haven’t asked him.”

“Then I suggest that you talk to him.  If he’s having the same problems then it’s more than likely that this is a side affect of the treaty.  If he’s not…”  She left the sentence unfinished as she stood up and rinsed their mugs out at the sink.

Clark nodded, and then made a face, “That should be an interesting conversation.”

“Oh?”

“Having serious emotional conversations with him is like trying to get Pa stay in bed when he’s sick.”

“Extremely unpleasant and ultimately futile?”

“Exactly.”

“Ah.  Hmmm, you could try what I do with your father?”

“I don’t think putting sleeping pills in his coffee would really be conducive for conversation.  Besides he has enough trust issues.”

“No?” She grinned at him, “Pity.  But I’m sure you’ll think of something.  But you need to talk to him,” she urged seriously.

“No, your right, I will.”  He stood up and kissed her on the cheek, “Thanks for listening.”

She smiled, “Any time.”

*

“Morning Smallville.”  Lois greeted him from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.  “How are your parents?”

“What?” He stopped, off balanced and then remembered the note he’d left, “Oh, right. Uh, they’re fine.”

Lois’ eyebrows rose, “You ok?”

“I’m fine.  Lot on my mind, I’m going to head up to the Tower, call me if you need me.”

She nodded, frowning, “Sure thing.  Clark?  The world’s not about it end again is it? Only I’ve got an interview with Max Cleveland that took me ages to wrangle.”

He smiled at her, “No, we’re between apocalypses at the moment.”

“Good to know.”  

*  *  *

“Something on your mind Clark?”  Bruce asked, not looking up from the microscope he was peering into.

This was the first time that they’d seen each other since they’d been back.  Clark had been worried that things would become awkward between them, but Bruce sounded the same as ever—brusque to the point of rudeness.  Clark smiled to himself and then said, “Yes actually.  I was wondering if you had experienced any…adverse effects from the treaty ceremony.”

Bruce’s head came up, he turned to face Clark and his eyes narrowed, “meaning?”

Clark shrugged uncomfortably, “I’ve been having these…dreams, about the ceremony,” Clark fought down the incipient blush that threatened to engulf his cheeks but he found that he couldn’t quite make eye contact with Bruce, which was why he missed how still Bruce suddenly became. “I’ve had one every night since I’ve been back.”  He shook his head, “I was hoping that they’d go away, but if anything they’re getting worse!  And they’re so real.  Bruce, Lois is going to get suspicious if she isn’t already.  When you were reading about the ceremony did it mention anything like this?”  When Bruce hesitated, Clark felt his heart sink.

“Not exactly,” Bruce hedged, “and remember that I don’t have as great a command of the language as I’d like.”

Clark started to panic, Bruce never admitted to not fully understanding something.  Never.  “Bruce.”  Clark warned.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Clark was in full blown panic now, but he kept it off his face, “Try me.”

“It means that we’re bonded.”

“Well, wasn’t that the point?”

Bruce sighed, “No, that was not the point.  God I wish you’d pay attention.” He complained to the air and Clark snorted, “The point of the ceremony was to bind the two parties to the rules set down in the treaty.  We, acting as representatives for the parties involved, bound them through the performance of _k’hcha che’k_ , it wasn’t supposed to affect us at all.”  Bruce frowned and then continued, “The problem seems to be that _k’hcha che’k_ is derived from an ancient Tiwandarii ritual whose original purpose was to bond partners together—permanently.”

“Wait, wait” Clark interrupted, “are you saying we’re _married_?!”

“More than that.  We’re _bonded_.   You remember in the trridii, you could feel what I felt?”  Clark nodded, “Well that is now more or less permanent.”

Clark’s eyes were wide, “Why didn’t they tell us?”

Bruce sighed, “We told them that we weren’t romantically interested in one another, the bonding only works if the individuals involved are in love.”

“But, but that’s ridiculous.  We aren’t in love!  We’re just friends!  Something must have gone wrong!”  

Bruce gave a half shrug.  “Possibly.  I’ll contact Xuzar.”

Clark glared at Bruce, “How can you not be panicked about this, you of all people, who hate emotional hang ups more than anyone I have ever met!”

Bruce looked taken aback for a moment and then his expression closed down, “It is what it is Clark.”

Clark flinched as if Bruce had hit him with a fist full of kryptonite, his stomach twisted painfully.   “I’m sorry.  I’m just” he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m terrified Lois is going to find out.”

“I can’t help you there.”  Bruce said flatly, “I’ll contact you after I’ve spoken with Xuzar.”

It was clearly a dismissal, but Clark refused to take it.  He moved to intercept Bruce as he turned back toward the microscope, but unfortunately it put them in extremely close proximity.  He heard Bruce’s heart beat speed up and he felt his own do likewise.  Oh.  Right.  Bonded.  This close he could feel what Bruce felt.  Pain.  Lust. Fear.  Which also meant that Bruce could pick up on what he was feeling.  Panic.  Worry.  Desire.

And without thinking he pulled Bruce into a tight embrace. Bruce fought him for a moment and then relented.  They didn’t do anything but hold each other for a moment and then Bruce carefully loosed himself from Clark’s hold.

He cleared his throat, and said quietly, “I wouldn’t recommend doing that.”

Clark took a deep breath, “Bruce…do you love me?”

Bruce’s face remained unreadable, his heart beat steady.  Damn him and his training Clark thought irrationally.

“Clark I am as I have always been,” Bruce answered calmly, “uninterested in relationships that would complicate my work.”  He turned and headed toward the Cave computer, “I will contact Xuzar—

 “That’s not what I asked Bruce.”

Bruce stopped, still facing away from Clark and shrugged uncomfortably, “That is not how I would have described it.”

Oh Rao.  “I’m married Bruce.”

“I’m aware of that.”  Bruce said, still not turning.  He finished crossing to the computer and took a seat before the massive screen.

Clark hesitated, watching the dark form, and then closed his eyes trying to get himself to think past the churning in his gut.  This entire conversation was not what he’d been expecting.   He was married to Lois.  He loved Lois!   Treacherously his mind flashed to the _trridii_ again, and he felt his body respond.   It had never been that good with her. A part of him whispered, He shook his head, stop it!  He told himself, this was absurd!  There was more to a relationship that just sex.  Yes, that same treacherous part of his brain snorted, an appreciation for the person—the whole person not just the man in tights.  He shook his head, that was years ago now.  Lois loved _all of him_ , not just Superman, she loved Clark Kent as well.   Sure she did. The voice snickered.  Clark was pulled from his dark thoughts by the sound of Xuzar’s voice.

“Great Master Batman!”  The translator exclaimed happily, “To what do we owe the honor of your call?”

“I have a question concerning the treaty ceremony Xuzar.”  Batman said smoothly.

“Yes, yes of course.”

“Xuzar, do you have any texts on the history of the ceremony?  I’d like to compile more information for our databases.”

Xuzar’s tentacles wobbled happily, “Of course!  Though” he frowned slightly, “we do not have any translations.”

“The original texts will be fine.  Preferred actually.”

“Wonderful! Wonderful.  How shall I get them to you?”

“I’ll send Superman to collect them.”  Bruce drawled, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Wonderful.  It will be wonderful to see Master Superman again.”

“Thank you Xuzar, I’ll be in touch.”  The screen went dark.

“Well that’s one way to get rid of me.”  Clark snorted

Bruce hesitated fractionally, and then said, “I thought it best to put some distance between us until we can have the bond broken.”

Surprisingly, the statement hurt.  “Bruce—

“Clark I’ve got work to do and I’d appreciate getting those texts as soon as possible.”

Clark sighed, “Fine.  But we’re not done.”  And he left.

Bruce watched him go, just before Clark hit atmo he heard Bruce say softly, “Yes.  We are.”  
***

Bruce worked through the Tiwandarii texts in growing alarm and dismay.  This was a nightmare.  He continued making notes—the existent file was now approaching overwhelming proportions.   According to the text, not only was there no way to break the bonding, apparently he and Clark we’re not only bound in this life, but for the next three if the text was to be believed.  Considering they were currently exhibiting all of the other symptoms described therein, Bruce couldn’t think of a logical reason to doubt them.  He sighed and sat back rubbing his eyes.  This was his nightmare come to life.  He’d already made sure to place warnings on all of the Tiwandarii literature concerning future treaty negotiation.  From now on they’d have to send couples—or, he shook his head.  Nightmare was an understatement.  

“J’onn?”  Bruce asked over the communicator

“Yes Batman?” Came J’onn’s swift reply

“Could you stop by the Cave for a moment?”

J’onn must have picked up on something in his voice—or his mind—because he said,  
“Yes, immediately.”

Twenty minutes later the Martian was hovering in the Batcave scanning through the text with Batman his frown deepening with each line of text.   “Batman I am truly sorry.” He said at last, “I did not know about this procedure or I would never have sent you and Superman to negotiate the treaty.”

“Can you see a way out of it?”  Bruce asked, ignoring the apology.

“From what you have told me, and what I understand from the text the ceremony is remarkably like the Martian bonding process, where by a part of the person’s soul takes up residence in the other person.  In other words, part of Kal’s soul now resides within you and part of yours in him.  There is no way to break the bonding short of death…most would not want to.”  He added, “On Mars it was considered exceedingly fortunate to find such a person to share the joys of one’s life with.”

“We are not of that opinion.”  Bruce said, more sharply than he’d meant to.  “This was something done to us J’onn, not something we entered into willingly.  There must be a way to undo it.  What if the people bonded fell out of favor with each other?”

“I have never head of such a thing happening.”  J’onn said simply “Bonded in such a way, people grow together, not apart.”

Bruce snorted; if this got any sweeter his teeth would rot.  “I refuse to accept that J’onn, there must be a way to break the bonding.  Could you not do something to extract the soul from us?”

“Personally?”  J’onn looked startled, “I know of nothing that would work, and I would not attempt it if I did.” Bruce gave him an icily glare but J’onn remained unaffected. “Bruce to my people such a bond as this is holy; to break it or to aid in breaking it would be sacrilege.  I would not transgress so.”

“Even though it was forced upon us?”  Bruce demanded angrily

J’onn gave him a neutral look, “Bruce, the bonding could not have taken place if some part of you—of both of you—did not wish it.”  When Bruce opened his mouth to object, J’onn held up a hand, “You know it for truth Bruce, lashing out at me will not change that.  You need to speak with Kal.”

“I’ve already spoken with him.”  Bruce said sullenly, “He’s as eager as I am to have this over and done with.  More so.  He has Lois to worry about.”

A frown creased J’onn forehead momentarily, “The situation is…regrettable.”  He acknowledged, “But as I said, I know of no way to break the bonding.”

“Would you tell me if you did?” Bruce challenged

“Yes.”

Bruce watched him and then nodded sharply, “Thank you for your help.”

J’onn gave him a sad look, “You are welcome.”

***  
Clark flew lazily over metropolis, looking for something to distract himself.  His head was a mess, and his stomach wasn’t much better.  He needed to talk to someone, but he already knew what his Ma would say, and he couldn’t very well ask Lois.  And Bruce…he’d messed that up spectacularly.   He sighed and swooped down to grab a purse snatcher.  The man squawked indignantly as Clark lifted him bodily off the street and gently tugged the purse from his grasp.  

He handed it back to the awestruck woman distractedly and waited for the police to arrive.  Once the purse snatcher was in custody he shot back up to sky scraper level.  

Rao, you’d think he was the one who had problems with relationships the way he’d reacted to Bruce.   He shook his head at himself despairingly.   Smooth Kent.  Very smooth.  He circled the city again and sighed, he was stalling.  What he really needed to think about what how he felt about this whole mess.   He was married to Lois.  He loved her.  But if the ceremony couldn’t work without both parties being in love…could you love two people at the same time?  Fuzzy memories of Advice Columns he’d edited in the past sprang to mind.  Well, if they were to be believed then it was more than possible to love two people at the same time.  But the response always seemed to be that the persons had to choose.  He was married to Lois.  He had already made his choice.  And it wasn’t like Bruce wanted a relationship.  He felt his stomach knot, Rao, that would be fun to explain to the League.  Ugh.  So that was settled.  He loved Lois.  He was married to Lois.  Problem solved.  Only… why did it feel like it wasn’t?

***

“Bruce, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”  Zatanna said as she came into the room.

Bruce looked up from his study of the magical objects on display, “Not a problem.”

She smiled at him and gestured for him to take a seat, “So what can I help you with?”

Bruce’s expression became bland and he said, “When Superman and I were on Tiwandar we participated in a binding ceremony to seal the treaty we had negotiated.  Unfortunately there seems to have been and unforeseen side effect and now he and I have been bonded together.”

“Hmmm, well come back with me to my work shop and let me see what I can make of it.  Although, this would probably be easier if Clark was here as well,” she threw over her shoulder as he followed her.  

“Let’s see if you can come up with anything before we bother him.”  Bruce dismissed the request. Zatanna raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.  

***

“There you are.”  Lois said, as Clark alighted in their living room, “I was beginning to wonder about you.”  She eyed the costume hungrily, “Do you have time for a quick romp?”

Clark grinned, the suit always got Lois’ motor running.  He glanced at the clock in the living room and shrugged, he didn’t have anywhere else he needed to be.

*

Lois lay back on the bed, grinning up at the ceiling.  “That was amazing Smallville.”  She purred, “You been taking lessons?”

Clark blushed, “No, I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

Lois’ face softened, “Aw.  Thanks sweetie.  You know you’ve meant the world to me since the day you plucked me out of the air.”

In spite of himself that rankled, it was too close to what he’d been thinking earlier.  Before he could second guess himself he asked, “Lois, if I wasn’t Superman any more, if I had to give it up, would it make a difference?”

Lois frowned, “What do you mean?  Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m just curious.”

“Clark, you can’t very well stop being Superman, it’s who you are.”

“But, say I lost my powers.  Permanently.  Would it matter?”

Lois sat up, “Clark, seriously what’s wrong?”

Clark sighed and rolled over on his back, “Nothing.  I just wonder—you didn’t like me when you thought I was just Clark Kent.”

“Well of course not.”  Lois scoffed, “Clark, you acted like an idiot most of the time.  Bumbling, unintelligent.  It was hardly attractive.”

Clark frowned, “But that’s just it Lois, my personality was the same.  I affected a clumsiness I didn’t really have—well that I hadn’t had since I was in high school anyway—but everything else, that was me.”

Lois sighed, “Clark, honey, I understand where you’re coming from but I think you’re being overly sensitive.  I love you, and if I didn’t understand that right away, then it was only because I was dazzled by the Super before got to know the man.”

Clark smiled, “That was worthy of the Pulitzer.”

“Well thank you, I’m due for another one.”  She laughed, “Come on Smallville, I’ll make you some dinner.”

***

“Ecruos ruoy laever gnidnob” Zatanna squinted at the air around Bruce.  “Gnidnob eht fo ecruos eht em wohs.  Damn.”  She said irritably, rubbing her eyes.  

“Nothing?”

“I can see…something around you.” She waved her hand in the air, “A change in your aura, but as to what the source is?”

Bruce hesitated, and then offered, “J’onn said that it seemed like an imitation of Martian martial bonding.”

Zatanna’s eyes narrowed, “You might have mentioned.”  She walked over and pulled a bottle of water out of a mini fridge.  She raised an eyebrow in inquiry at Bruce who shook his head.  After she took a sip of the water she said, “How close an imitation?”

“He seemed to think they were nearly identical.”

“Meaning that you have part of Clark’s soul and Clark has part of yours?”

“Yes.”

Zatanna whistled, “That’s, wow Bruce that’s pretty serious.  I might have to call in some help with this.  Fate maybe or better yet Jason.”

Bruce sighed internally but let nothing of his agitation reach his face, “Fine.”

***

Clark backspaced for the hundredth time.   He took a deep breath and tried again:

Bruce  
I’m sorry about my previous reaction.  I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just   

He just what?  He was terrified out of his mind that he might actually love the man back?  Well…yes.  He sighed and leaned back rubbing his eyes under his glasses.  He hadn’t seen or heard from Bruce since he’d left to retrieve the text from Tiwandar.   When he dropped them at the Cave Bruce hadn’t been there, Alfred had made his excuses but Clark knew that Bruce was avoiding him.  Nice job Kent, way to alienate the man who was already terrified of emotional entanglement.  Fantastic.

“Kent!”  Perry White bellowed across the new room, “Kent there’s a fire on 5th, get down there and get the story.”

“On it chief.”  Clark called back distractedly.  He hurried out of the room and into the janitor’s closet, seconds later Superman was zipping through the air to put the fire out.  Clark reappeared shortly after to take statements and was able to uncover that the fire had been set deliberately by a jaded house wife.  

When he got back to the news room—hailing a cab this time around—he typed up the story and was able to get it into the evening addition.  Perry was pleased and Lois kidded him about switching from international work to Vanity Fair.  He’d laughed along good naturedly, but his focus had been elsewhere.  He needed to talk to Bruce.   He allowed his senses to expand, and then zeroed in on Bruce’s heartbeat.  He was finally home again.  He should go talk to him.  Clark stood up suddenly and Lois paused, mid taunt.

“—Problem Smallville?”

“I need to go check on something, I’ll be back.  Cover with Perry for me will you?”

“Sure.”  She grinned, “I’ll tell him you’re sulking.”

***

Bruce sighed mentally as Clark touched down in the Cave.  Damn.  He’d been hoping to avoid him for a few more days.  No such luck.  He grimaced.  He didn’t have good news.  Thus far he’d been unable to find anything short of one of them dying that would break the bonding.  If anything the situation had gotten worse since the last time, since now he knew that they were apparently bonded for the next three lives.

“Hello Clark.”  He said as Clark moved up behind him, he felt Clark start and allowed himself a small smirk.

“How do you do that?”  Clark asked, exasperated, “I know I didn’t make any noise!”

“Everyone makes noise.”  Bruce replied offhandedly, “What did you need?”

Clark rolled his eyes and then moved so that Bruce had to look at him, “I came to apologize.”

Bruce kept his expression neutral, “No apology is necessary, you were merely reacting to a rather dressing situation, and I’m afraid that it hasn’t improved.”

“Still that’s no excuse—what do you mean it hasn’t improved?  You say that like its gotten worse.”

“That would be because it has.  Apparently not only are we bonded in this life, we are bonded in the next three as well.”

Surprisingly that seemed not to phase Clark like he’d thought it would.  Clark just shrugged and grinned at him, “Nice to know that I’ll get to hang out with you for a while yet.”

Bruce felt his pulse try to quicken and squelched it with a few calming breaths.  He reached for calm and pushed all other thoughts out of his mind.  It wasn’t easy.  Clark’s proximity was doing things to him that, well, normally he would have called fatigue induced lust, but now…he left the though unfinished and shook his head, “Regardless, I’ve found nothing, after consulting J’onn, Zatanna and Jason Blood, that leads me to believe that the bond can be broken short of death.”

Clark made a face, “Hardly an option.”

“Agreed.  Which leaves us more or less where we started.  I contacted Xuzar again to see if he knew of any way to break such a bonding.  He didn’t know but he said that he’d look into it.”  Bruce frowned unhappily.  He hadn’t wanted to ask.  Too many people had been involved already.  He did not need this getting around.  Neither did Clark, he was the married one after all.  “Which means that unless something else turns up, we’re stuck like this.”

“You know, somehow I knew you were going to say that.”  Clark blew out a breath, “Well…” Bruce noticed that Clark’s breathing had picked up, and he was mildly flushed. Bruce smirked.

“You probably want to take a step back.”

Clark looked monetarily confused and then rolled his eyes, but instead of pulling back he moved closer, close enough that Bruce knew that despite his outward calm Clark could pick up on his own arousal.  Unexpectedly Clark lifted a hand and ran it along the exposed flesh of Bruce’s face.

“You want me.”  He said, sounding almost shocked

“I should think that that would have been obvious since Tiwandar” Bruce grunted.  He tried to pull away, but he was seated and there was nowhere to go short of getting up and he would not run away.

Clark slid his thumb over Bruce’s lips and despite his best efforts Bruce felt his eyes slip shut and his lips part.  A small part of his brain was screaming that they would both regret this shortly, but the larger part of him that he’d kept tightly leashed for the last few days clubbed it into silence.  Still Bruce opened his mouth to tell Clark to stop, but what came out was simply, “Clark.” Laced with enough emotion to make Clark’s breath catch.

Clark pulled him up into his arms and their mouths met hungrily.  He felt his body respond and he groaned at the memories flooding him.  The trridii. The night before.   God he wanted him.  Here, now.

Finally however, his common sense kicked in and he pulled away panting.  “No.”  He said hoarsely, “No.  Clark you’re married, you don’t want this.  It’s just the bonding.”

Clark looked pained.  “I am married.”  He agonized, “But…but I do want you.”

“Only because of the bonding.”

“No.”  Clark shook his head, “No, that only let me know it was possible.”  He looked on in anguish, “Bruce, no one understands me the way you do.  No one talks to me, fights with me, banters with me like you do.  Everyone else treats me like a God…even Lois sees the costume first and the man second and I hate it.  You treat me like I’m just a regular person.”

Bruce licked his lips, “Clark, this is impossible.  I can’t—

“—be in a relationship.” Clark finished for him, “with someone else, someone normal that excuse might work.  But not me Bruce…and you know that.  How am I going to complicate things?  I know what you do with your evenings, sometime I help.  It’s not like someone is going to use me against you—”

“They could.”  Bruce accused trying to pull the tattered remains of his shields around him, “They could use me against you.”

“They could anyway.”  Clark reasoned, “Because…because I love you Bruce.”  

Bruce couldn’t take it anymore he moved away, trying to get space to think past the ache that had taken up residence in his heart the last week.  It wasn’t just lust—that was the problem, it was something deeper, and had been the feature of his own set of vivid yet strangely unsatisfying dreams.  “Clark, what about Lois?” he tried, “You can’t tell me that you’re comfortable cheating on her, I know you.  You won’t do that.  You can’t do that.  It’ll kill you.”

“No, you’re right I couldn’t, and I won’t.  But if you tell me that there is a chance—just a chance— that we can be together then I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Bruce felt his throat constrict and it took him a very long time before he could respond, “Clark, we have to work together.  If this goes bad…and Lois, you’re saying that you’re going to divorce Lois on the outside chance that this will work?”

Clark looked uncertain and Bruce pounced, “Clark, be reasonable, before the treaty you didn’t even like men.  Isn’t it more reasonable to assume a misfire on the part of the ceremony than some strange, suppressed emotion?”

“Bruce, you said that when you met Allen White that he got you drunk and you woke up with a hangover and a new perspective on life.  Well, the last two weeks have made me reevaluate a great many things, and has given me a new perspective on life.  I never considered a man as partner.” He said frankly, “I just…I never even thought of it.  But when I look at how I feel about you—have felt about you for a very long time—in the light of a lover and not a friend…I do Bruce.  I love you.”  Clark said, firmly.  “I didn’t realize what it was that I felt until we made love on Tiwandar, and after that I was—and I still am—terrified because, because I’m married to Lois and the idea that I would have to hurt her to follow my heart, I love her Bruce, but…but I love you more.”

Bruce froze as Clark advanced toward him.  To be honest he didn’t know who reached for whom first.  But they were in each other’s arms again and Bruce only had so much will power.  He was, after all, only human.  He tugged his gauntlets off and let his hands wander over Clark body; Clark buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder and urged him on.  When his hand slid down onto Clark’s ass, Clark moaned so loudly Bruce though Alfred, three floors up, might have heard.  He pulled away, his fist clinching and unclenching helplessly.  

“I want you” he said, voice thick, “and if you’re masochistic enough to…” he shook his head, “to try this.  Clark you know me, I’m not suddenly going to become another person,” he explained desperately, “I’m going to be the same secretive, untrusting bastard that I’ve always been, ask yourself do you really want that?”

Clark pulled Bruce back into the embrace, the kiss was one of the most passionate yet, “I love you and I want you,” Clark replied breathlessly, “I know what I’m getting into Bruce, I’ve been working with you for years. I’m prepared to deal with the consequences.”

Bruce barked a laughed, “You’re insane.”

Clark smiled, it was, as always, Bruce thought, like watching the sun come up, “Probably,” he agreed.

END  
   
 

 


	3. Chapter 3

  
Bruce looked up from his crouch on the top of Wayne Tower as Superman alighted next to him; he only had a moment before the torrent of emotions ragging through Clark slammed into him and only years of constant mental and physical training kept him from pitching head first off of the parapet.  He fought for balance, steadying himself with a hand to the ground and a deep breath.  Clark didn’t say anything.   Even after Bruce regained his equilibrium and was able to quiet the echoed roar of emotions from the other man Clark stood silently staring out over the twinkling if slightly tarnished lights of Gotham, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tight.

“I take it, it didn’t go well?”  Bruce, in an uncharacteristic move, finally broke the silence.  

Clark tensed further, his brows pulling down into a frown and then blew out a breath, “No.  No it didn’t.”  

The rigidness went out of his stance then and he slid down to sit next to Bruce. “She cried and she threw things at me and then she said…she said she never wanted to see me again.”  Bruce winced internally but said nothing.  “It was more or less what I was expected.”  Clark continued tiredly.

After a long moment of silence Bruce asked, “Do you need a place to stay?”

Clark turned to him and gave him a tired smile, “I do.  But I wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d be with me showing up at the manor.”

Bruce nodded looking back out over the skyline.  His City.  Whom he had sworn to protect and defend at all cost.  His eyes, hidden behind star-light lenses cut over to study Clark’s face.  The man looked absolutely miserable and Bruce once again thought about what a stupid idea this was.  After his confession in the Cave he had tried again to talk some sense into Clark, arguing that even if they loved one another, love wasn’t necessarily all that was required to maintain a healthy relationship.  Even, he’d reasoned, if Clark loved Bruce more, wasn’t he happy with Lois?  Wasn’t that what counted.  But Clark hadn’t been swayed, and, at the time, even if he could only admit it to himself, he’d been pleased.  But now Bruce found himself in the awkward position of a miserable Clark who was no doubt indulging in epic levels of self recriminations and doubt.  He thought longingly of his uncomplicated if lonely life only a few short weeks ago.

<Oracle?> Batman spoke into his communicator, causing Clark to jump at the sudden break in the silence.

<Yes Batman?>

<I’m returning to the Cave. Notify Robin and Huntress to compensate.>

<Understood.>

Bruce stood, even as Clark protested, “Bruce you don’t have to—

“I’m aware of that.”  He replied tersely, then his tone softened, “Come home with me.”  He looked out over the city and then back at Clark, “Let’s try to make this work.”

The look in Clark’s eyes warmed Bruce, igniting the same fire in his stomach he’d felt in the Tridii, and if he was honest with himself, had never really left.  He shot off a grapple line; sure that Clark would follow and made his way back to the Batmobile.  Clark surprised him by getting into the passenger seat.  He raised an eyebrow under the cowl, but Clark just shrugged and got in.

They rode in silence for the first twenty minutes of the trip, Bruce had no idea what was running through the Kyptionian’s head.  For his part, he wondered at his actions of leaving patrol early even if it was a quiet night while at the same time forming and discarding plans about how they could possibly make this work to either of their satisfaction.

“You know I can actually hear the gears turning from over here.”  Clark said conversationally, as he glanced at Bruce.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s not anything I haven’t already expressed.  I’m still concerned about the efficacy of this decision.”

“In other words you’re afraid you’re going to get hurt.”  Clark supplied voice neutral.

“Or that you are.”  Bruce returned, annoyed. “Clark, you’re already miserable.  This is not a responsibility that I’m built for.”

Clark snorted. “I’m upset, yes, but that will pass Bruce.”  Bruce grunted and Clark rolled his eyes.  “You know,” he remarked thoughtfully, “I think the problem is that we started from the wrong direction.  Most people start out dating and then get married.  We did it back to front.  We got married first and now we don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Are you proposing that we date?”  Bruce asked, incredulous horror leaking into his tone in spite of himself

Clark laughed, “Why not?  It could be fun.”

“Clark,” Bruce tried to sound reasonable, “I don’t have time to date.”

Clark rolled his eyes again, but he was grinning, clearly warming to the idea.  “Sure you do Bruce, go to a few less parties as Brucie and spend more time with me instead.  You can’t tell me that that’s exactly a sacrifice.”

He was right, Bruce couldn’t.  The idea of having an excuse not to spend his evening smiling inanely as hordes of women threw themselves at him—or perhaps more accurately, his wallet—was compelling.  Bruce switched tactics.  “Are you suggesting we Out ourselves to the public?”  

Clark frowned for a moment and then understanding dawned, “No.”  He glared at him, “And now I know you’re just being difficult on purpose.  You know very well I’m not suggesting we make some sort of announcement Bruce, I’m just suggesting that we spend some time together when the fate of the world doesn’t hang in the balance.”

The corners of Bruce’s mouth quirked up and Clark knew he’d won.  “So what do you suggest?”  Bruce asked as the pulled into the Cave.

“You’re already taking the night off,” Clark shrugged, “Why not go out for dinner?”

“We could stay in.”  Bruce gave him a lecherous grin.

Clark laughed, “See, now you’re getting into the sprit of things. Dinner first.  Then sex.”

“Hopeless romantic.”  Bruce grumbled as he began stripping out of his costume, he paused for a moment and then grabbed Clark and pulled him to him.  The closeness allowed Clark to feel what Bruce couldn’t say.  Love.  Excitement.  Fear.

Clark kissed him. Tongues tangling hard and slick, until Bruce let out a moan sagging slightly against Clark.  

“Thank you.”  Clark said quietly and Bruce sighed.

“Welcome.”   

“Master Bruce?”  A voice called from the stairs.

Bruce pulled gently away from Clark, who was surprised that he didn’t jerk away and smiled slightly in encouragement.  Bruce rolled his eyes, “He already knows.” To Alfred he said, “Clark and I are going out for dinner Alfred, don’t wait up.”

“Very good Master Bruce, Master Clark.”  Alfred indicated Clark with a slight nod of his head, “Will you require anything upon your return?”

Clark actually blushed and Bruce laughed, “No, I think we can manage.”

*

“When did you tell him?”  Clark asked over pizza later that night.

“I didn’t.”  Bruce returned, “Trying to keep something from Alfred is impossible.”

Clark raised his eyebrows, “You know, I never thought I’d see the day you’d admit that something was impossible for you.”  An eye roll was his only response.  “I haven’t told anyone other than Lois yet” he confided, toying with his napkin, “…at the very least I need to tell Ma and Pa.”  Clark shook his head, “So do you mind him knowing?”  

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment, “I—” he shrugged, “We haven’t actually talked about it.  He knows, and I know he knows.  How he—” Bruce broke off and frowned at the pizza in front of him, glancing up in surprise when a hand found his surreptitiously under the table.  

“Bruce,” Clark said quietly, his eyes concerned, “We don’t have to do this you know.  Not if you don’t want to.  It’s ok to say that you made a mistake.  That you don’t want to try.”

Bruce swallowed, stomach going tight.  This was his out.  This was his chance.  He opened his mouth to agree, to say that clearly this was best for neither of them.  What he said was:  “I love you.”  He paused wondering where that had come from.  It was true, obviously so, but he was not in the habit of so blatantly stating his affections.  

Clark smiled gently into his confusion. “I know.” He said softly, “And I love you too.  But if you’re unhappy, if I’m making you do something you’re not comfortable doing—

Bruce squeezed the hand that was holding his, “Stop.  Just—” He glanced around the room, “Can we go somewhere less public?”

Clark nodded.  He pulled out his wallet, left a handful of bills on the table as Bruce got to his feet.  They left, and once on the street Clark ask, “the Fortress?”

Bruce nodded.

*  
Twenty minutes later Clark and Bruce where facing each other across two cups of coffee in one of the smaller rooms of the Fortress that Clark had set up like a library.

Bruce was staring into his coffee cup as if the answer to all the world’s problems could be found in its murky depths.  He was stalling for time and knew it.  He had been so completely and utterly off balance ever since the night in the stadium; he’d felt his emotional control—something that he had spent a life time perfecting— being slowly eroded, cracks appearing in the once pristine walls around his inner most self and he didn’t know what to do.  So many weeks of uncertainty had left him irrational and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.  Suddenly two strong arms came around him and pulled him back against a massive chest.  It was a testament to how disconcerted he was that he hadn’t registered Clark moving to sit next to him.  He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, tired of fighting.

“Talk to me Bruce.”

He let his head drop back onto one of Clark’s broad shoulders, “Clark I have no idea how to do this.”

Clark turned his head and kissed Bruce on the temple, “Bruce I don’t think anyone knows how to do this.”

Bruce turned and glared at him, “You know what I mean.”

Clark sighed, “I know.  But you deserve to be happy Bruce.  Just because you don’t know how to open up doesn’t mean that you can’t learn.  You’re the single most dedicated individual that I’ve ever met, if you put your mind to it, I know you’ll do just fine.”

“You make it sound like some kind of equation with a verifiable solution.”  Bruce scowled, “Relationships are…”

“I know.”  Clark whispered as he tipped Bruce’s head back and kissed him.  Bruce let his eyes slide shut and just feel.  The kiss was gentle as Clark explored the inside of his mouth as if he hadn’t done this a dozen times before.  Bruce moaned, shifting around so that he was now face to face with Clark, deepening the kiss.  It was Clark’s turn to groan as Bruce let himself fall backward on the couch pulling Clark down on top of him.

“Are you worried about what Alfred thinks?” Clark whispered against Bruce’s lips.

“Yes.  No.”  Bruce kissed him again and then sighed, “Yes.”

Clark let one hand trail down Bruce’s chest, fiddling with the button of his dress shirt. “Why?”

One corner of Bruce’s mouth quirked up, “Is this” Bruce paused as he slid his tongue back into Clarks mouth, breaking the kiss to continue, “really the time for conversation?”

“Humor me,” Clark replied, smiling.

“Incorrigible.”  Bruce muttered, running his hands through Clark’s hair.  “I don’t know why it bothers me.”  He admitted finally, “Alfred is the closet thing to a father I’ve had since I was eight.  I suppose that I’m worried he doesn’t approve.”

“And did he approve when you first suited up and went swinging over the roof tops of Gothem?”

Bruce snorted, “According to him, no.”

Clark pulled back slightly to raise an eyebrow at that, “You disagree?”

“Alfred has always had a… problematical relationship with the Bat.  He understands the need, both the city’s and my own, but there are times I know that he wishes my life had turned out differently.”

“Does that bother you?”

“You sound like a shrink.”

Clark nipped him gently, “Answer the question.”

“No, not really.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what I want.”

Clark gave him a dazzling smile, “And us?  Do you want there to be an ‘us’?”

“You know I do.”  He growled pulling Clark back down for a rough kiss.  He bit Clark’s bottom lip, demanding entrance which Clark gave.  Their tongues sparred with one another sucking, tangling in a hot, demanding kisses until they broke apart again, eyes bright and chest heaving.

“So are you going to give it up because Alfred might not approve?”

“You’re a brat.”  Bruce grumbled flipping them so that he was on top, grinding his hips into Clark’s, whose sharp intake of breath was loud in the quiet of the Fortress.

“So,” Bruce smirked, “Is this the sex portion of the date?”

Clark laughed breathlessly, “It is.”

“Good.”  Bruce smirked, as he rucked up Clark’s shirt, sliding his hands underneath to follow the flawless musculature.  This would be, he realized suddenly, the first time they’d had sex where the fate of a nation did not hang in the balance.  He sat back on his heels and really looked at Clark.  He was flushed, his mouth kiss swollen, his eyes bright, his breathing slightly elevated.  Bruce marveled slightly at the fact that he’d done this.  He’d always been good in bed, sex was just another technical skill set to be mastered, but he’d always known instinctively that there would be a difference should he ever take someone to bed that he actually cared about.  And here it was.  It was a feeling of connectedness, of, he grappled for the word, a oneness that he couldn’t even begin to articulate.  He began his exploration again, more slowly this time as he began mapping out all of Clark’s body.  Clark seemed to sense his change in mood, or perhaps it was communicated through the bond, but he moved with Bruce’s hands, moaning softly as Bruce found particularly sensitive spots.  “What do you like best?”  Bruce asked, as he traced Clark’s hip bones.

Clark’s eyes had slid shut and he smiled blissfully, “You’re doing pretty well so far.”  He murmured.

Bruce hummed in agreement as he worked Clark’s shirt off.  He leaned down again, capturing Clark’s mouth with his own, the kiss was sensual; slow and deliberate as Bruce strove to learn Clark’s mouth as he was learning his body.  Clark sighed contentedly, his tongue sparring lazily with Bruce’s.  Bruce moved down to his neck, kissing and sucking, his tongue trailing a wet line up to Clark’s ear lobe where he latched on making Clark moan loudly.  Bruce smirked in triumph and kissed his way over to the other ear, measuring the moan that elicited against the first.  Right ear preference, he filed that away for later use.  He frowned then, something occurring to him for the first time, “What does it feel like?” He asked sitting back.

“What?”  Clark asked, opening his eyes to look at Bruce curiously.

Bruce trailed one finger along Clark’s jaw, “In humans pleasure is just another form of pain,” he explained, “I just wonder if pleasure feels the same to you—someone who can’t feel pain— as it does to a non kryptionaian?”

Clark frowned, considering, “I don’t know.” He said finally.  He grinned, “I know it feels good, but I don’t know how you’d compare it.”

Bruce’s eyes lit up, “But we can. When I kiss you, I want you to concentrate solely on what you’re feeling; I’m going to see if I can feel it through the bond.”

Clark grinned his acquiescence, and pulled Bruce back down on top of him.  Bruce focused not on his own sensations but on those of the other man.  It took him a moment, to fight down what he was feeling and focus, but when he was able to cut through the static of his own arousal the feelings that flowed through the bond took his breath away.  It wasn’t human, that he was sure of, it made him think of music and colors.  The soft slide of silk over bare, steam warmed skin.  He gasped pulling back from Clark, eyes wide.  

Clark eyes opened slowly, “More.”

Bruce dove back down, concentrating on what he was feeling from the other man, a heady rush of sensations that overloaded his mind but had nothing in common with what he normally registered as “pleasure.”

“I want,” Clark gasped out, “I want to try, your turn.”

Bruce nodded, some part of him realizing that they hadn’t even gotten their pants off and they were both dangerously close to orgasm, he also realized that he didn’t care.  This time he focused on what he was feeling, letting Clark take control of the kiss.

“Oh, oh Rao.”  Clark panted.   He pulled Bruce closer, his hips bucking up and grinding against Bruce who ground back.  They came then, both of them shouting from the almost overwhelming sensation.  Bruce collapsed on top of Clark, trusting him to be able to take his weight.

“That” Clark whispered, his voice awed, “That was even better than the Tridii.”

Bruce nodded his agreement, it had been.  It had been like nothing else he’d ever experienced in his life.  His arms tightened around Clark, who pulled him close.  And Bruce knew, with the same certainty of purpose he’d had when he’d first put on cape and cowl that this would work.    
* * *  
They returned to the Manor just before sun-up.  Bruce shrugged out of his suit and began the long climb up the Cave stairs, Clark one step behind him.  Once they were in the Manor proper, Bruce stopped, glancing over his shoulder at Clark, who was marveling unselfconsciously at the size of the place.  Not that Clark hadn’t been in Wayne Manor before, but it always seemed to take him by surprise.  Bruce hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Where do you want to sleep?”

Clark noticed the hesitation.  But he knew something had changed, something had clicked for Bruce at the Fortress, he had felt it, felt Bruce’s certainty as if it had been his own.  Which, in a way, it was. It was, therefore, with much less anxiety than he would have thought possible not two days ago that he answered, grinning, “With you.”

Clark caught the quickly aborted smile and knew that he’d answered correctly.  He smiled warmly and took Bruce into his arms.  “We’re going to make this work.”  He whispered into the other man’s ear, “You’ll see.”

“Master Bruce, Master Clark.”  Alfred greeted them as he came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. “Breakfast is on the table.”  He turned to Bruce, “Shall I make up one of the guest rooms for Master Clark?”

Bruce, who, while not jerking away from the embrace, had taken a discrete step forward shook his head, “No, Clark will be sleeping in my room.”

“Very good Sir.”  Alfred replied without a flicker of emotion across his face.  It was impossible to know what the man was thinking, Clark mused with frustration.  

“Bruce,” Clark heard himself say, “why don’t you grab a shower and a few hours sleep?  We’ll keep something warm for you.”

Bruce gave him a knowing look but didn’t argue, merely turning on his heels and heading up the massive staircase to the second floor.  Clark felt something in his chest tighten at the fact that Bruce had just allowed himself to be handled.  That he trusted Clark enough to do what he obviously knew Clark was going to do.   Clark watched him up the stairs for a moment and then turned a dazzling smile on Alfred who arched an eyebrow but refrained from comment.  “So what’s for breakfast?”  Clark asked, rubbing his hands together.  “I’m starving.”

The corners of Alfred’s mouth turned up, “Pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits an assortment of fruits and freshly squeezed orange juice.”

Clark blinked, and then his face lit up, “Wow!  Great.”

Alfred gave him a look and said dryly, “I presumed you would be joining us and I like to be prepared.”

Clark grinned sheepishly, ducking his head in embarrassment.  The last time he’d stayed at the manor he’d eaten the entire breakfast Alfred had made before Bruce had made it through his morning coffee, much to Alfred, not to mention Bruce’s, consternation.  He preceded Alfred into the kitchen were he settled into one of the kitchen chairs and tucked in happily.   He watched Alfred with his peripheral vision trying to gage the man’s mood but it was impossible.  His heart rate was normal, his breathing steady, Clark couldn’t detect any tell tale signs of anger or unease, but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t there.  Suddenly Clark shook his head at himself, Rao listen to him, he’d been spending too much time with Bruce.  At that thought—more specifically at the thought of what he and Bruce had just been doing— a silly smile spread over his face and he asked, “Alfred?”

“Yes Master Clark?”  Alfred replied looking up from pilling dishes into the dishwasher.

“Are you ok with Bruce and I having a relationship?”

If his question had caught the older man off guard he couldn’t tell.  Alfred straightened up and regarded Clark with a level stare, “It is not for me to pass judgments on Master Bruce’s associations.”

Clark frowned, “That wasn’t what I asked.  Alfred, Bruce cares about what you think, he’s worried that you don’t approve.”

That won a rare smile from the reserved butler, “You may assure Master Bruce that he has no cause for worry.  I am simply happy that he has found someone.  But if I may be so bold Master Clark, I do wonder if you know just what you have gotten yourself into.”

Clark laughed brightly, “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.  But I’m happy.”

Alfred returned his smile before turning back to the dishes, “And that, Master Clark, is all that any of us can ask.”

* * *  
Bruce didn’t bother to look up at the sound of the doors swishing open to the control room.  He’d monitored Diana’s progress from the moment that she’d appeared on the station.  Diana wasn’t on monitor duty for the day, nor was it time for the next rotation even if she had switched shifts, which meant that she wanted to ‘talk’.  Bruce sighed internally as she came and stood silently by his shoulder, watching his hands as he made a notation in the computer about the slight lag time in the consol temperature readings.

“Lois came to see me.”  Diana said apropos of nothing.  Bruce didn’t respond, it wasn’t framed in the form of a question so he saw no reason to join in a conversation that was really none of Diana’s business any sooner than absolutely necessary—that and he didn’t have a clue about what the hell he was going to say.   “She said that Clark left her.”  Her tone was clearly incredulous, but Bruce still didn’t respond, his eyes tracking attentively over the rapidly changing scenes on the forty two different monitors in front of him.  “Bruce,” Dina’s voice took on an edge of irritation, “Lois said that Clark left her for you, is that true?”

Finally Bruce turned to look at her; her brows pulled together, her full mouth turned down slightly in a concerned frown.  She remained the most beautiful and noble woman the Bruce had ever met—but at the moment he could wish she was less inclined to meddle in the affairs of her teammates; which was about as likely as wishing that Green Arrow would become a fascist.  To her credit she didn’t press him, just stood there regarding him with concern and the silent threat of righteous indignation if his answer proved unacceptable.  Bruce inclined his head marginally in acknowledgement, “He did.”

Diana’s eyes widened fractionally and then narrowed.  “And if I ask J’onn to check—

Bruce interrupted the threat, “We’re not possessed Diana, nor are we drugged or acting under compulsion from mind control.”  Not strictly speaking anyway Bruce thought with a flash of his original irritation at the situation that melted almost immediately at the memory of last night. “J’onn already knows—it’s…fallout from the treaty negotiations on Tiwandarii.”

  
Diana blinked, “I’m sorry Bruce,” she said, frowning in confusion, “but I don’t follow.  What does your negotiating a treaty on Tiwandarii have to do with Clark leaving Lois?” She asked, hitching herself up to sit on the consul as she crossed her arms under her breasts.  

Bruce sighed, “On Tiwandarii they have a custom known as k’hcha che’k, it is a requirement that states that in order to make a treaty binding the individuals who negotiate said treaty must engage in public intercourse.”

Diana’s eyebrows shot up, “Great Hera.”

Bruce grunted. “That was more or less our reaction at first.  We tried to find away around performing K’hcha che’k but unfortunately to refuse to perform the ceremony was tantamount to the repercussions of an army of men showing up on Themascara.”  Diana winced.  “Exactly.  So, we agreed.  It was only later that we found out that the ceremony had had some rather… unexpected side affects.”

“Side affects?”

Bruce sighed, turning to scan the monitors in front of him, “It was a marriage ceremony before it was a treaty ritual, it was meant to bond two people together for the next three life times.  Prior to our performance we told Xuzar that Clark and I harbored no romantic feelings for one another,” his mouth quirked up in a self deprecating smile, “so as far as he knew there was nothing to worry about.  The ritual wouldn’t bond people who weren’t in love.”

Bruce glanced over at Diana sharp intake of breath, “Oh Bruce.”  She said softly, “I didn’t know.”

Bruce sighed, “You weren’t supposed to.”  He rubbed wearily at the bridge of his nose, “No one was, least of all Clark.”

“What are you going to do?”  She asked her voice warm with concern.

Bruce gave her a wry smile, “The best I can.  We’ve decided to give it a try, hence his leaving Lois, which, I might add, I counseled against.”

“You would,” Diana snorted.  “That would only have led to disaster Bruce.  He can’t stay with her if he’s in love with you.  That’s not fair to either of them.”

Bruce rolled his eyes under the protection of his cowl.  “It takes more than love to make a relationship work Diana.” He answered scornfully, “It takes a willingness to be hurt that I’m not sure I have.”

“Now that I don’t believe for an instant.  You’re a good and courageous man Bruce, a man who is willing to fight for the things that he believes in.  If you truly believe in this relationship then you will fight for it with all that you have.  I know you.”  Bruce glanced over at her in surprise, “Don’t look so shocked.”  She said smiling brightly, “You two have always worked well together, I would have suggested the match myself if I hadn’t thought Clark was so in love with Lois.  To be honest,” She added, “I’ve always wondered about those two.”

“Really?”  Bruce asked dryly.

“Yes,” Diana replied, ignoring his tone, “Lois has the heart of an Amazon, but she is unappreciative at times of who and what Clark is.  I think it’s hard for people who don’t share this life with us to appreciate him for who he really is, rather than what they’ve raised him up to be.”

“The voice of experience?”

Diana smiled, “I’ve found such difficulties from time to time myself, yes.  You treat us like people Bruce, you refuse to be overawed or impressed.  It’s…refreshing.”

“Clark said much the same thing.”

Diana nodded, “I’m sure he appreciates it as much as I do.”

“Let’s hope so.  So” he asked, veering back to her original topic, “Does that satisfy your question.”

“Yes.”  She paused for a moment and then asked, “Are you going to tell the rest of the League?”

“It’s not their concern.”  

“As teammates no, but we’re also your friends Bruce.  I’m sure they’d like to wish you well as much as I do.”

Bruce hesitated for moment, reminding himself that Diana came from a much different world that this one.  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that Diana, I know it doesn’t seem unusual to you because of where you come from, but the fact that we’re both men will give many people pause.”

“I…I hadn’t thought of that.”  She confessed, frowning. “The prejudices of Man’s world still surprise me from time to time.”  Bruce grunted noncommittally.  She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, “Whatever you decide know that I’m happy for both of you and I wish you joy in your new life together.”

She turned to go, smiling as she heard Bruce say quietly, “Thanks.”

* * *

Clark took a deep breath.  He could do this.  This was his mother for pity sake, and she had practically told him that she didn’t have a problem with the idea of his being gay.  Clark paused on that word, frowning thoughtfully.   He wasn’t really sure that he considered himself gay.  He loved Bruce, but he wasn’t sure that such consideration would extend to other men in general.  He chewed on his bottom lip and traced through his mind all the different encounters he had with men over his life and searched each for a hint of attraction.  

The door in front of him opened and his mother leaned in the doorway, “Clark honey, were you going to come in or just stand there all day?”  
Clark started, and then grinned in embarrassment at having been caught hovering on his own doorstep.  “Sorry Ma.”

She smiled up at him, “Is everything ok?”

Clark rolled his shoulders, “Uh, that’s a rather complicated question at the moment.”

Martha nodded, opening the door wider, “Why don’t you come on in?”  Once he was again seated at the Kent’s kitchen table Martha asked, setting a cup of coffee down in front of him, “Did you talk to Batman?”

Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “I did,” he took a sip of coffee, “the dreams weren’t, well—” he sighed again, stealing himself he blurted. “I’m in love with him, I left Lois and we’re living together.”  Clark concentrated on mapping out the wood grain of the kitchen table.  As the silence stretched on, he forced himself to meet his mothers gaze.

She was smiling, “When do I get to meet him?”

Clark’s eyes closed in relief; his mother came round the table and pulled him into a hug.  “Clark sweetheart, I’m so happy for you.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her in wonder, “How,” he marveled, “Did I end up with such wonderful parents?”

Martha’s smile widened and she hugged him tighter, “I often ask myself much the same about you.”

“No I’m serious Ma, I don’t know how you do it.”

 Martha tisked, “Nonsense.  Your father and I just want you to be healthy and happy, we consider ourselves the luckiest people on earth to have a son like you.”

Clark cleared his throat roughly and kissed her on the cheek, “Thanks ma.  Do you think Pa will be ok?”

Martha snorted, “Your father was a hippie Clark, I think you’d be surprised what he’s ok with.”

“Ma!”  Clark replied, scandalized and Martha laughed.

“Stay for dinner, you can tell him then.” She shook a finger at him, “But I do want to meet him.”  

He laughed, “I’ll see about brining him by, but you know of him at any rate.”

/“Oh?”

“He’s Bruce Wayne.”

Martha paused in the act of drying a dish.  “The Bruce Wayne?” Clark nodded.  “Oh my.”  Martha said faintly.

Clark grinned, ducking his head, “He’s not that bad.  What you see on TV is an act.”

“Ah.”  She rallied, “And what do Mr. Wayne’s parents think of him saving the world on a weekly basis?”

Clark’s smiled faded, “His parents were killed when he was eight.”

“Oh.”  Martha covered her mouth, setting down the cup she’d been cleaning in the sink “Oh that’s right, I remember that now.  It was horrible.   That poor boy.”

Clark nodded, “Please don’t mention it when I bring him by, he’s…never really gotten over it.  Not really.”

“I’m not sure anyone really gets over something like that Clark, I remember reading about it ….”  She shook her head, “Poor thing.”

Clark sighed, “Its best not to talk about it.”

Martha gave him a sharp look, “Keeping something like that bottled up isn’t healthy Clark.”

And boy wasn’t that the truth Clark thought, “Bruce….Bruce isn’t good with talking about feelings.”  Clark rolled his shoulder uncomfortably, “I’ve been trying to get him to open up, but I honestly think that for him, it’s not that he doesn’t want to but that he doesn’t even know how.”

Martha pursed her lips thoughtfully, “How old is he?”

“Bruce?  Uh, about my age I think, maybe a bit younger why?”

“It just seems a long time to be so lost.”  She shook her head, “never mind.  Anyway,” she said brightly, “I expect you to bring him by, and soon.  I have to make sure that this man is good enough for my son.”

Clark’s smile was incandescent, “he is ma.  He really is.”

* * *

“So how did it go?”  Bruce asked when the Cave alarm alerted him to Clark’s presence.

Clark grinned, “Just fine.  I was worried over nothing.”

Bruce smiled slightly, Clark was practically glowing, a combination of a visit with his parents and a prolonged flight in bright sunshine. Bruce could almost feel the heat radiating off the other man.  He relaxed back in his chair as he set the computer to churn through another series of searches.  “Diana came by the Tower, apparently Lois talked to her.”

Clark stopped short, “She did?  What did she say?”

“That you left Lois for me.”

Clark winced; he gave Bruce an apologetic look.  “So, uh, how did that conversation go?  The one with Diana I mean.”

Bruce half turned to look at him and raised one shoulder in a shrug, “about as well as can be expected.  She threatened to call J’onn at first,” Clark smiled at that, “I explained about the ceremony and then she wished us luck in our new life together.”

Clark laughed, “That sounds like Diana,” he agreed.

Bruce paused, and then said, “She did ask if we were going to tell the rest of the League.  I told her that it wasn’t anyone’s business, and I still think much the same way but I thought I’d ask what you wanted to do.”

Clark shrugged, “I don’t see any reason to make an announcement, if people find out they find out if not,” He shrugged again.

“You do realize that if Bruce Wayne Playboy and Clark Kent reporter start being seen together on a regular basis you will start being followed by the paparazzi.  That might make things incontinent for you.”

“I can move faster than their eyes or cameras can follow,” Clark assured him, “and remember I work for the media, I know how ruthless we can be, I’ll be fine.”  
   
 Bruce looked doubtful, but let it go.  “I had an interesting talk with Alfred,” Bruce said dryly, “he wanted to let me know that he was quite pleased with my chosen partner.”

“Well that’s good right?”  Clark said brightly, “Now you don’t have to worry that you’re letting him down.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips, he grew serious once again as the computer chimed.  He frowned at the screen, not seeing what he wanted and began entering another set of parameters.

“Can I help?”  Clark ask, watching over his shoulder, but Bruce shook his head, “No, I’m not even entirely sure what I’m looking for at the moment.”  He glanced back at Clark, “Did you need something?”

“No, I’m just,” he paused and huffed in exasperation, “I’m apparently feeling clingy.”

Bruce’s eyebrows, shot up, and then he frowned slightly, “Do you think its part of the bond?  Do you feel compelled?”

Clark laughed, “No,” he shook his head, “trust you to look for a sinister motive, no Bruce, it’s just that this is new and I want to spend time with you.”

Bruce had the grace to look slightly abashed, “Sorry.”  He glanced at the screen, “my case load is light at the moment, something of a rarity for me.  We could…go out?”

Clark’s face lit up with a dazzling smile and Bruce felt his stomach turn over, it was disconcerting how much a just a smile from the other man could affect him.  “We could go for dinner at my parent’s place?” Clark said hopefully, “Ma wants to meet you.”

“Clark, I’m not sure I’m up for being interrogated by your mother.”

“Oh Bruce, it won’t be that bad this is Ma we’re talking about.  You’ve met her before.”

“I wasn’t dating her son at the time.”

“Come on Bruce, please?”  Clark begged, “Its Ma who gave me the courage to go after you in the first place.”

Bruce looked surprise at that; he was even more surprised that he found himself feeling extremely grateful for Mrs. Kent’s help.  “Ok,” he said absently as he explored these unexpected feelings, “I suppose I can manage, you sure we won’t be imposing?”

Clark waved a massive hand in dismissal, “Ma loves to cook for company,” he pulled out his cell phone from a pocket in his cape and dialed his mother.  Bruce listened with half an ear as he glanced back at the screen, still nothing.  He sighed.  He might as well give up for the night.  He ought to shower before they went to the Kent’s anyway.  Although traveling by way of the Man of Steel didn’t do much for his appearance on the other end of the journey.  Maybe he could talk Clark into taking the Jet.

*  *  *  
“Bruce, it’s so nice to meet you.”  Martha Kent exclaimed holding out her hands in welcome.  She grasped Bruce’s hand in both of hers, “Come on in, Jonathan is just finishing getting cleaned up.”  She led them through into the living room and indicated that Bruce should make himself comfortable.  Unlikely, he’d never actually met the parents of someone he was dating, he realized suddenly, that thought alone was unsettling, but the fact that it was Clark’s parents and that it was important that he made a good impression was even more so.

“It’s good to meet you as well Mrs. Kent,” Bruce replied warmly.

“Oh please, call me Martha.”

“Martha.”  Bruce agreed, nodding.  He glanced around the living room, it was small but comfortable, the honey colored wood of the floor and furniture accented by the warm tones in which the living room was decorated.   There were pictures of Clark everywhere, as well as group shots of the entire family.  Bruce felt a sharp stab of loss and covered it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “You have a lovely home.”  He offered, trying to distract himself.  He knew immediately, however, that neither Clark nor Martha was fooled.  

Martha’s eyes were kind as she replied, “And I hope that you’ll come to see it as yours as well.  You are part of the family now, after all.”  She said in a tone that brooked no argument.  “I’m only sorry that I missed the wedding.”

Clark blushed deeply, and Bruce cleared his throat roughly as an image of the Tridaii sprang to mind.  “I’m rather glad you weren’t,” Bruce replied candidly.

Martha laughed, “Honestly why is it that children always think their parents don’t know what they get up to in the bedroom?”

“ _Ma_!”  Clark gasped, scandalized.

“Oh really Clark,” Martha tisked, shaking her head, “honestly.”

“Can we talk about something else please?”  Clark asked desperately, and Bruce laughed in spite of himself.  

Martha grinned wickedly, “I should show you some of Clark’s baby pictures.  

“Oh look there’s Pa,” Clark redirected the conversation with the air of a drowning man sighting land, “Hey Pa,” he said, nearly dragging his father over to where Bruce was standing, his father giving him a confused look in return. “This is Bruce Wayne, Bruce this is my father Jonathan Kent.”

“Mr. Kent,” Bruce said holding out his hand.

“Call me Jonathan.  It’s nice to meet you Mr. Wayne.”

 “Bruce, please.”

Jonathan nodded, “So, you have quite the reputation, Bruce.  Clark here assures me that most of it is for the purpose of deflection.  So I hope that I can assume that you won’t be stepping out on my boy here?”

“Pa!” Clark nearly shouted.

Bruce returned the serious look that Jonathan Kent was giving him.  Jonathan didn’t blink and Bruce was impressed, there weren’t many people that could stare him down.  “I love you son,” Bruce replied simply, “And I will do my best not to hurt him, but I’ve never been very good with people or emotions and I will probably screw up.”

At this point Clark looked like he was thoroughly regretting his decision to introduce Bruce to his parents, “Pa, could you please stop interrogating Bruce?”  He turned to his mother, “Can Bruce and I help you in the kitchen?”

“Clark its fine.”  Bruce said, and surprisingly he meant it.  These were Clark’s parents, and they very obviously loved him a great deal.  It had to be hard for them seeing their son end a marriage in which he’d been ostensibly happy for a man of questionable relationship material.  “They’re just worried about you.”

Martha took Bruce’s arm and led him toward the dining room table, “Still that’s no reason to be rude,” She threw a look over her shoulder at Jonathan who shrugged, “Please have a seat Bruce dinner will be ready in just a moment.”

“Can we help?”  Clark asked again

“Clark, sit down and stop fretting.”  Martha admonished as she headed through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Clark, Bruce and Jonathan all took a seat at the solidly built dining room table.  The conversation flagged as Clark, despite his mother’s admonition, continued to fret and threw occasional apologetic looks at Bruce.  Jonathan was watching Bruce like he was a fox that had gotten into the hen house and Bruce was attempting not to notice or respond in a threatening fashion.

By the time the meal was over, Clark was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake.  But as they all sat around in the living room drinking coffee, Jonathan seemed to relax as Martha engaged Bruce in conversation about how the farm ran and profit margins.

“I’ve actually never been on a farm,” Bruce was saying, “In Gotham the closest we get to nature is Central Park.”

“That’s a shame,” Martha replied, “All children ought to get the chance to visit a farm.”

“It’s good to know where food comes from, and that it doesn’t just appear.”  Jonathan added.

Bruce nodded, “Wayne Foundation actually supports several groups that work to get kids out of the city.  I’ll have to suggest that they include the opportunity to visit farms.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”  Martha said approvlingly.

“Have either of you been to Gotham?”  Bruce inquired.

“I went was I was in college, did you ever go Jonathan?”

“Nope.”  Jonathan replied, looking rather proud and Martha rolled her eyes making Bruce grin.

“Well then we’ll have to have you both out for dinner next week.”  Bruce replied

“We wouldn’t want to impose.”  Martha demurred.

“I insist, I’ll send the jet.”

Jonathan, who hadn’t looked pleased in the first place, looked even unhappier at the prospect, but Martha cut him off before he could say anything, “That sounds lovely,” she answered with a quelling look at her husband.  She beamed toward Clark who was still looking nervous, “It will be nice to have a chance to see where you’re living.”

If anything that seemed to make Clark look even more nervous, but he declined to comment.  On the way back to the manor that night, Bruce had succeeded in convincing Clarke to take the Jet, Bruce commented, “Stop worrying, it went fine.”

“I’m so sorry they gave you the third degree like that,” he apologized for the fifth time.

“Clark,” Bruce said, sitting forward and taking Clark’s face in his hands, “Its. Fine.”

This close Clark could feel that Bruce was telling the truth, and finally relaxed.  “Thank you.”  He sighed, “And I am sorry.  But I suppose I should have expected it.  They did more or less the same with Lois.”

Bruce cocked his head, “Then why would you think they would do anything differently with me?”

Clark looked at him in surprise, “You’re…you’re _you_.”

And this close with the bond singing between them Bruce got it.  Clark trusted Bruce.  He trusted him with his life, with his heart and with the defense of the plant and the people he loved.  He trusted him to be there no matter the odds.  And it had honestly just never even crossed his mind that his parents wouldn’t automatically share that same level of trust.  It took Bruce’s breath away.

Bruce leaned forward and kissed him, almost reverently, just a gentle touch of lips.  “I love you so much it scares me.”  Bruce whispered against Clark’s mouth.

Clark’s breath hitched he knew that, the bond told him as much, but it meant so much more to hear Bruce say it.  “I love you too,” Clark answered, pulling the other man toward him and into his embrace.  So long as it was in his power, Clark would see to it that Bruce never had to face another day alone.

END


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